


Poinsettia Kisses

by EmeraldsAndAmethyst



Category: Ultimate Spider-Man (Cartoon 2012)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), M/M, Non-Graphic Smut, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:00:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21844810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldsAndAmethyst/pseuds/EmeraldsAndAmethyst
Summary: If there was one thing that Peter Parker was known for it was making only the most excellent of decisions and having the best of instincts.Which is why he proposed to Sam on the roof of some too nice upstate manor house at Mary Jane's 'congrats on being awesome goodbye basically forever' party.
Relationships: Sam Alexander/Peter Parker
Comments: 3
Kudos: 36





	Poinsettia Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> Needed some fluff in my life of these assholes. Set in some vague USM future or something.

Sam looked amazing. Holy wow, the suit and tie look was absolutely for him. Peter hadn't even imagined that Sam would look anything other than uncomfortable and awkward. Unfair. 

Peter, himself, felt like an awkward teen, even though he had meta human spider like grace and hadn't been a teenager for five years. Give or take the non zero number of times he'd been cursed into his teenage body between then and now. That definitely didn't count. Anyway, he was just, stupidly happy for MJ, he'd put up with wearing a suit for her. Because while Peter had been busy with punching various villains and extremely desperate people in an effort to keep his city safe and feelings of loneliness from exploding in ugly crying or something, whatever, it's cool, he's Spider-Man! And being Spider-Man is something Peter loves being more than nearly anything. But on top of the patrols he is the head of SHIELD Academy and in charge of making sure the next generation of metahumans (and mutants and inhumans and cosmic irradiated or Gamma irradiated or you know, just, anyone that wanted to be a hero, really); he taught a few different classes, as well as managed the entire complex. And also career counseled and general counseled and was just too busy to be doing silly things like maintain friendships. Wait, MJ. Right!

MJ had been successful as a journalist and then, well, she's still successful as a journalist but now she's moving to Paris to take charge of DBC's European division. And this was her congratulations-slash-goodbye party. So Peter was here, very manfully not crying his eyes out even though his best friend was moving an entire continent away. He'd go cry later, behind his mask. Not that he was ashamed of crying, even in public. But he didn't want to embarrass Mary Jane with his drama.

Sam had noticed him earlier in the night, but hadn't done more than torment Peter with his unfairly hot presence as he said his hellos. But he noticed him again now and made his way towards him. Peter tried to blend into the wall but, of course, he didn't have that super power. It was grossly unfair.

Sam freaking swagged over like the asshole he was and then kept on coming. His arms slid around Peter's shoulders like firm warm muscley goodness and Peter felt his mouth run on off without his consent but whatever inane nonsense he was spewing only made Sam's smile turn into an unfairly sultry grin and had Sam's eyelashes always been this long long dark and lovely? His eyes were sparkling in that way Peter knew meant trouble with a capital everything.

Sam leaned into Peter, surely tipsy after the however many not mimosa mixers he'd had. He smelled like cranberries and soap and his stupid intoxicating cologne that Peter was sure he'd gotten just to torment Peter with how irriresistable it made him smell.

Sam curled into him, way more intimate feeling than a hug had any right being. Peter let himself hug him back. He maybe hadn't been chugging drinks as much as Sam, but the second glass of champagne might have been Too Much. Then Sam turned this from a comfortably intimate friend hug to some sexy nice touch just like that.

His face was smooth and lips delightfully warm against Peter's throat. He laughed, stupidly genuine, and said, "you smell so _flarking_ good. You gotta know what that does for me _Papi."_

Peter nuzzled into Sam's hair and took a steadying breath. It didn't help as much as he'd thought it would. At least not help him calm down. He hadn't, actually, known what this would do to Sam. Though it was definitely wanted.

"Christ Sparky, we're in public," was all Peter managed to say. Sam giggled. Peter kissed him. Kind of on his ear and definitely sloppier than he'd meant to. Sam shivered.

" _Díos_ ," he gasped, all hushed and so sexy that Peter absolutely wanted him to do it again. Preferably within the next oh, immediately. Then Sam mouthed at his neck and whispered, so sweetly that it made it even hotter, "wanna suck your dick, _Papi_. Please lemme show you what a good boy I can be, Pete."

"Jesus. Yes. Okay. C'mon, let's get your helmet and get out of here." Peter told him. 

They got his helmet. But they didn't make it further than the roof. It was the hottest blow job of his life and when Sam was done Peter wasn't entirely sure he was still breathing. Sam looked so perfect, so soft and sexy and vulnerable and Peter had to say **something** to him.

"Kiss me, fuck, I think I'm dead," Peter told him. Sam looked confused, like incredibly, adorably bewildered. But he straddled Peter and kissed him, sweet and soft and nearly chaste. Except for the taste of him on his lips.

"Seriously?" Sam asked him, he didn't pull away. But he did sound unsure, confused. Like maybe Peter was going to change his mind mid kiss or something.

"Seriously seriously. I mean, if you want to, Sunshine," Peter told him. Peter was too busy in the moment getting his brains kissed out of his ears to process the look on Sam's face before, well, getting kissed senseless by Sam. But it was maybe joy, possibly delight, definitely happiness, and after a few more minutes, or maybe half an hour, Peter was more than ready for more.

"Sam, babe, Sunshine, Super Nova, my little lightbulb—" 

"Don't have lube," Sam told him, interrupting the truly stellar make outs to speak but not even pausing in his half dressed frotting.

Peter made a truly embarrassing and humiliating sound because, wow. So he said, "Wow, okay, okay, yeah. That's? That's on the table? You'd fuck me? On, on the roof right here and now? Holy wow, that's so incredibly hot."

"Uh, yes? That's? You want **me** to fuck **you** ?" Sam did pause his desperate grinding to kind of process this apparently new information. Peter groaned, low and hungry and wanting. God, okay, Sam had wanted to bottom? They had to get back to somewhere with lube. Somewhere **close** with lube before Sam killed him from just how wildly turned on Peter was at everything about this **everything**.

"Sam. You're killing me. I'm dying, literally **dying** from how freaking stellar you are," Peter informed him.

" _Díos_ Webs, **stellar**?" Sam said with a smile. It looked so good and right. Sam smiling at Peter's pun instead of rolling his eyes was so good that he couldn't stop talking.

"Yes, absolutely. Astronomically, universally, cosmically stellar," Peter told him, punctuating each word with a worshipful kiss to Sam's palm, his wrist, the inside of his forearm, his neck, his jaw, his ear.

Sam laughed like he couldn't believe him. Which made Peter's anxiety explode.

"Please, Sam, this is like, this is gonna be an us thing, yeah? Please let me woo you! I'm really good at wooing!"

Sam kissed him, still just as good but now somehow more… **more**.

"Yeah Peter, woo me, nerd," Sam said against his lips. So Peter set to it. 

Starting with showing him just how flexible spiders could be. Then diving right into how much he could fit in his mouth. Sam cursed him in one breath, blessed him in another and whispered frantically in between. When he was done, Sam looked so blissed out that Peter couldn't breathe. Or maybe that was from the extra bendy double b j. Whatever. Absolutely worth it. 

He needed to see Sam like this way more often. Like, say, every day for the rest of their lives.

"Marry me?" Peter asked him, still trying to catch his breath.

Sam laughed, but gorgeously genuine now. Peter managed to shut up and wait.

"Yeah? Marry you?" Sam asked, Peter couldn't get a read on this but before he could spiral too far Sam reached for him and kissed him so soft and mellow that Peter was pretty sure he was crying while he kissed him back. "God, you're such a, a _flarking_ you. Let's move in together first. Maybe tell everyone we're a thing next. Go from there, huh?"

"Yeah. Yeah, okay. Yes. Yes!" Peter said. Then they laughed. Drunk now on each other and the joy they felt.

A little while later, slightly more presentable and looking less 'just fucked' and more 'just made out' they made their exit. Sam had been pretty insistent that they couldn't just ditch on MJ's celebration party. Even **if** it was to start a new life together.

"My place or yours?" Sam asked him. The trust he had in Peter was so wonderful and amazing.

"Yours," Peter told him. Eager to show him how much he treasured his hard won trust. Even if it was just a little thing, in comparison.

But the soft look Sam gave him made it feel like way more than the little thing it was to Peter. They spent the rest of the night moving Peter's stuff into their new to them formerly Sam's place. It was only a bit cramped. Falling asleep together was almost as wonderful as waking up together. Sam made a face at kissing before brushing their teeth but he didn't actually tell Peter to stop or try to get up out of bed. Eventually, though, they did have to actually get up out of bed and get ready for the day. Sam, for once, didn't really seem to want to get up.

"That's okay, my little light bulb, I'll make you breakfast in bed! It'll be super romantic and everything!"

"I'm up! I'm up!" Sam announced, practically leaping out of bed and into the kitchen. Which was like maybe three normal human leaps away so not terribly far. Though Sam made it in two. But still. 

Peter sulked.

Until Sam shoved a bite of freshly cooked _migas_ in his mouth and kissed the top of his head. Peter moaned theatrically but wow they really were delicious.

"What, not too spicy?"Sam said, teasing and smirking and looking so good Peter couldn't help but kiss him.

" _Muy caliente_ ," Peter told him when he finished kissing his appreciation.

" _Picante_ you _gringo_ ," Sam said with a laugh so fond Peter's heart ached with joy.

"No, you rude jerk, you didn't let it cool off first! _¡Caliente!”_ Peter insisted.

It was so easy, being with Sam. He'd never seriously entertained the notion until that night on the roof. But he didn't regret his proposal. He didn't regret anything except maybe not realizing this was something that they could have had before he was twenty five. But they had it now and Sam gave every indication of enjoying it at least as much as Peter.

Despite their rather sordid getting together they didn't really do much more for a while than variations on a theme of oral fun. It was good, too. So good. But even better was the soft and easy way Sam would hold him and kiss him after he came. Or maybe it was the sort of wonderful way he'd look at Peter, like he was someone rare and precious. Not just after sex either, but sometimes after Peter was an especially sappy idiot. And if Peter was sweet and mushy at him in front of someone? Amazing.

A few months into their thing, Sam asked for more.

Well, actually, what he said was, "okay! Let's do this!"

Which had Peter just a bit confused, since they were both comfortably occupying each other's space while grading papers and drawing up next week's practicals. Sam didn't leave Peter puzzling over this for very long. He shoved Peter's notes away and replaced them with himself. 'This' turned out to be bottoming for Peter. He was eager in the most Sam way. Which just made Peter more in love with him.

It was somewhere between stretching him open and finger fucking him two fingers deep that Peter realized that Sam hadn't, actually, ever been properly fucked. That was god damn heart breaking. But Peter was more than happy to show him how it was done.

It was about two weeks later when Peter realized he'd created a monster.

He didn't particularly mind, though. Sam was after all, not a particularly dangerous monster. Except maybe to himself when he'd forget to do more than lube Peter up. And except he was definitely working through some shit that was making Spider-Man be a bit more punchy with low level low lives than was likely called for. But, finally, Sam accepted that Peter wasn't going to let him hurt himself, and wasn't going to get mad about it, and wasn't going to do anything other than fill him full of love and be there for him when he needed him. 

The first time Sam introduced them as **partners** instead of boyfriends Peter embarrassed them both by crying like a fool. Thankfully, Sam didn't seem too upset at him. And when they were alone, Sam was so shy and sweet as he said, "Sorry, I didn't ask you first. I, uh, have some hang ups with marriage, and, this, us, feels like we'll always be us, so, uh. Yeah. Partners."

"Yeah, us, partners," Peter managed to say, eventually. After maybe dying again from happiness.

While that seemed the perfect time to have life-changing sex, they instead spent the rest of the night beating up muggers and assholes by wandering around in Central Park in their civvies looking like helpless idiots.

It was honestly perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> Cranberry champagne mixers are called poinsettia round here. So, uh, happy solsticemas I guess.


End file.
